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| Jul/Aug 2018 • Poetry |
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| Jul/Aug 2018 • Poetry |
Image courtesy of British Library Photostream
The Mirror Dreams of Water
Half-memory, half-story,
it comes back to me
when the room is quiet,
nights when moonlight enters,
stirring recollection.
Did we know each other once?
Was there a time of movement,
shadows, creatures,
slender-legged, heads bent,
drinking what I offered them?
A story, but one that never leaves me.
Imagined, remade, captured,
it must be I still hold its origin.
Else, why would the dream return?
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